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Tuesday, December 31, 2013

Hi all! For the first time since I started, I won't be flashing tomorrow with the Wednesday Briefers. I'm having some personal stuff, and I'm not going to manage an update this week for Take Flight. Sorry! But I found The Experiment on Dreamspinner's Coming Soon page today and couldn't wait to share!

In the distant future, humans wage war against the alien planet Caeorleia, with no tactic off-limits if it will help the humans get their hands on Caeorleia’s resources. Ask Ryker. He thought he volunteered for a simple experiment that would help his government in the war. He didn't realize sadistic doctors would turn him into the experiment—by injecting him with blood from a captured Caeorleian, Seral Iorflas.

Nor did Ryker realize he’d be sent to sabotage a planet full of the very beings his world is battling, beings who kill humans on sight. But then, thanks to the experiment that irrevocably changed him, he isn’t exactly human any longer—and with each passing day, as his blood bond with Seral strengthens, he’s less and less sure as to whose side he's on.

A/N: Thanks to a heads up, I alerted DSP to the fact the series info was misspelled. We're still working on getting that corrected on all the promo material.

Wednesday, December 25, 2013

First off: Merry Christmas!! I hope everyone is having a lovely holiday season. This week I toyed with the idea of doing a flash story that related to the day, but I decided to keep going with Birch and Sayer's story. I can't say as you'll get too many answers, but there's a new character being introduced. This week's inspiration came from a picture prompt. Enjoy!

Take Flight Part 24

The dark hid them as Sayer flew for the veil. Birch clung to
him, wishing he could fly beside Sayer. He shivered in the cold air.

“Hang on, Birch. We’ll be there soon!”

“I’m trying.” Birch struggled to stay conscious.He was so tired. His head sank against
Sayer’s chest, and he closed his eyes.

“Birch? Birch!”

The panic in Sayer’s voice scared Birch. He forced his eyes
to open. “Yeah?”

“You need to stay awake.”

“Mmhmm.” The chill faded. Birch blinked. His eyelids felt
like they weighed a thousand pounds.

“Please stay awake.”

Sayer risked himself to rescue Birch. All he wanted was for
Birch to stay awake, but he couldn’t do it.

“Too tired.”

***

Birch roused from his lethargy briefly.

“Let him sleep.”

“But I have to go to the human realm. I don’t want him to
wake up when I’m not here.” Sayer was speaking to someone.

“We’ll watch over him for you.” The man’s voice wasn’t
familiar. “He’s recovering nicely, Haverlseen said. He needs rest, and you
should stop hovering.”

Sayer sighed. “Fine. I won’t be gone long. I need to do some
research on Grigori, and meet with that man.”

Birch didn’t want to be left behind while Sayer was meeting
with his lunatic boss. He struggled to speak, to object to Sayer putting
himself in harm’s way.

He failed as the darkness overtook him again.

***

The second time Birch woke up someone sat on the edge of the
bed. It dipped under their weight. “Time for you to wake up, Birch.”

A trickle of power flowed into him. Birch gasped. His eyes
flew open, and he sat up.

“Haverlseen!”

“What?” The healer glanced over his shoulder. “I didn’t hurt
him.”

“That’s not a very nice way to wake someone up, though.”

A woman glided toward the bed. Her long hair hung,
raven-black, to her waist. Her exquisite face was drawn down into a frown. “He
would have woken naturally soon.”

“Sayer will be back shortly. In the meantime, let’s see how
you’re holding up. You know, you really should stop getting hurt so much. It
takes a lot of energy to heal.” Haverlseen sniffed.

“I’m sorry,” Birch said automatically.

“Nevermind. Like before, I want you to focus within. See
your inner light.”

Birch closed his eyes. “I see it.” It pulsed, not bright,
not dim, but quiet. A red light imbued the space he imagined as the center of
his power.

“Good, good. You’re healing nicely.”

A tingle ran down Birch’s leg. “What are you doing?” he
asked.

“Checking the mending I did on your leg. Again.” Haverlseen
stopped running his hand through the air over Birch’s leg, and then stood up.
“You’ll be a bit stiff and you should rest for a few more days to fully recover
your strength. There were no adverse effects I can detect from handling that
cross the others mentioned. I’ll let Sayer know when he gets back.”

“Thank you.”

Haverlseen nodded. The woman came back with a goblet of
water. He took it from her and motioned toward the soft chair pulled up beside
the head of the bed. “You should sit down too, my lady.”

“I’m fine.”

The healer snorted. “Yes, well, who’s responsible for that?”

She sighed. “You.”

“Exactly. So, unless you believe I would ask you to rest and
not have a sound reason, you should sit down. Your recovery could last weeks,
not days, my lady. Don’t hinder it.”

The woman smoothed her skirt and sat down regally.

“Thank you, my lady.”

Birch watched their interaction with interest, but he wanted
that water. His tongue felt like it was stuck to the roof of his mouth.

“Can I have the drink?”

“What? Oh!” Haverlseen flushed. “Yes, of course. Sip it
slowly.” He handed Birch the goblet. “I’ll be back later.”

He swept out of the room without a look back. Birch groaned when
he finally got a drink.

The woman in the chair laughed. The throaty sound was at
odds with her ethereal appearance and the dainty way she sat with her hands
folded in her lap.

“I bet you’re really confused.” She smiled at Birch.

“Yes.” Birch wanted Sayer. The last few days were jumbled.

“First, introductions.” She held out her hand. “I’m Sayer’s
mother, Lady Celeste.”

Sayer’s mother wasn’t dead? But… Birch didn’t know if he
should kiss her hand or shake it. He sat up to take her hand and the covers
slithered down to rest in his lap, exposing his bare chest.

“Oh my god.” Birch gasped. Would he ever learn? He clutched
at the blankets, glad they hadn’t gone down any farther. Heat prickled up his
neck and face. He stared at the rich colors on the goblet’s mistletoe design,
sure his face was as red as the berries against the deep green leaves.

Lady Celeste laughed again. She covered her mouth. “I’m
sorry! I wasn’t laughing at you, truly. You just look so embarrassed, and your
face turned so red. Don’t worry, invoking the Christian Lord’s name won’t bring
harm, but you should probably avoid it.”

“Stuff and nonsense. Croll filled us in on everything that
has happened since we…,” she faltered. “Well, everything. Without you, the son
of the Grigori who tainted our magic and used you as bait would have destroyed
us. No one here could have done what you did, without thinking of the
consequences to yourself. My husband and I owe you a great debt. All fae do.”

So who wants to know what's going on with my upcoming eBooks??? I do, I do! Okay, so I'm ridiculously excited but the hard work part is over... until they come out in a few short weeks! Then the promotion begins. Anyone who blogs or tweets or facebooks, and is willing in helping spread the word of my stories, I'd love to hear from you.

Okay, so first... One Night. Many of you probably remember this from my last Wednesday Briefers flash story. But the story has changed so much! I've added over 14k to the story, so it tops out just over 40k. The story has undergone an awesome evolution, thanks to help from my friends-AJ, Renee Stevens, and Rob Colton all gave me some valuable input, and Romance First Publishing's editing team, Eden Conner and Tucker McCallahan.

Right now the cover is undergoing an edit because the story changed so much a new title was warranted, but I do have a banner I made to share!

Synopsis:

Bear has sworn off guys who try to pick him up at his second
job working as a bartender. His ex, Vilem, damn near turned him off dating
altogether.Jimmy would flip if he finds
out Bear dated a drug dealer, as if Bear did it knowingly. His career as a cop
only makes his brother more protective.

But Kameron doesn’t try to pick him up at the bar. He
doesn’t ask for a blow job or a back alley screw. He asks Bear out for coffee.
That alone is rare enough to get Bear to say yes. They have an instant
chemistry, even though he will cut the giant off at the knees if Kameron calls
Bear “little guy” one more time.

Kameron’s secrets grow harder to hide the longer he dates
Bear. He wants to come clean, but he knows there’s a very good chance the fiery
man will never speak to him again. Kameron wrestles with his conscience and his
desire for Bear.

Both men’s choices lead to a series of events neither see
coming. Bear believes his judgment failed him once again when he learns exactly
what Kameron was hiding. At the same time, Bear learns Vilem wasn't just a
corner drug dealer, and some very scary guys are after him.

Can both men survive their encounter with Vilem’s bosses?
When Bear and Kameron land in a life or death situation, it's up to Bear to
save himself … and Kameron, if he's lucky.

Excerpt: ALL NEW SCENE!

“I don’t know man,
that’s a lot.”

“Can you get the stuff
or not?” Kameron shifted his weight back and forth. The inside of the phone
booth was filthy and something had died in the corner. The small space had a
foul smell, but Kameron tried to pretend he didn’t notice. “Ben said you could
get me ten grams. I need it.” He sniffed and wiped his nose.

“I don’t usually—”

“Look, I got two fifty.
I’m looking for ten grams for a… a party I’m throwing. I need it now. You
coming or not?” His heart raced during the silence as he urged Maks to agree.

“Fifth and Inochs?”

“Sweet,” Kameron said with
relief. “Yeah, I’ll be by the statue. See you in twenty, right? You’ll be there
with my stuff?”

“I’ll be there.” Kameron
heard Maks mutter about junkies under his breath. He managed to keep his
response in check. He waited until he was almost to the bridge before he made
the call so it only took him a few minutes to get in place. His palms were
sweating, and he kept wiping them on his ratty jeans. Finally he stuffed them
in his pockets to keep them still.

His hoodie obscured his
vision, but he didn’t want to lower it. It was cold under the bridge, and the
wind sent icy fingers inside the holes exposing his knees. Kameron hunched
over, slumping against smooth side of the abstract metal statue. Damn wind was
making his nose run already.

How much longer? He
couldn’t help peering back and forth, checking the creeping shadows. The
freeway overhead hummed with cars taking people home or out to whatever
entertainment they craved on a Friday night.

And here was his.

Maks looked just like
his picture. Kameron relaxed a little. He took his hands out of his pants
pockets and fiddled with the strings to his hoodie. The cold made his fingertips burn. There was a
lot more snow here than he was used to, and Kameron was fucking freezing.

“Carson?”

Kameron nodded. “You
Maks?”

“Yeah.”

They both knew how this
went down. Kameron twitched his strings again and sniffed. “You got my party
supplies?”

“Yeah, I brought them.” The
drug dealer lifted a six-pack of beer. “You’re gonna pay me back for the beers,
right?”

“’Course.” Kameron dug
around in his pocket and pulled out a small wad of crumpled bills. He stuffed the
money back in his pocket after he flashed it to Maks. “I just need to make sure
the beer’s my favorite kind.”

Maks didn’t look happy,
but he handed over the six-pack. “It’s all there.”

Kameron picked up a
bottle, peering at it, then tilted the carton. The orange glow from the streetlight
shone on the white baggies tucked in the bottom, around the beer. “Looks good.”

He put the beer back and
then shoved his hood off his head. Kameron dug into his pocket, shivering as
the wind blew sharply, scattering litter along the ground. He peered at Maks.
“If I have another party, say in a couple of weeks, could you get me more of
the same?”

“Sure.” Maks looked
eager to be gone, his eyes focused on the cash in Kameron’s hand.

“Cool.”

Maks grabbed the cash
Kameron held out and kept walking. “Nice doing business with you,” he said over
his shoulder.

“Oh, it was. You can
stop right there though.” Kameron tugged on the cord hanging around his neck,
hidden under his sweatshirt.

Sunday, December 22, 2013

Please welcome M.A. Church to my blog today to talk about her latest release (and a hot one at that!) Wrapped in Leather!

"Most welcome, bondage, for thou art a way, I think, to
liberty."

- William Shakespeare

Hey everyone! I’m M.A. Church and
I’m here to talk about my latest release, Wrapped
in Leather. It’s the first in the Wrapped Up series. Wrapped in Leather is about two men exploring a relationship
involving their love of leather, BDSM. One of the things Toshi has to answer
for himself is: What is a submissive?

A submissive is a person who makes
a conscious choice to give up some or all control of their life to another
person—a Dominant or a Top. Dominance
and submission is about a power exchange between two consenting adults. It is
about the control within the dynamics of that relationship, whether it be a
full time 24/7 relationship, or a casual meeting, or a part time arrangement.

Choosing to be submissive means to
allow someone else to control your body and behavior within the preset limits
you and that particular person, i.e. the Dominant, have agreed upon. Submission
is not a sign of weakness; some of the most successful and strongest people are
true submissives.

Submission is not about
passiveness, it is not about being a doormat—most
submissives are intelligent and well-balanced people just fulfilling their
basic desires to submit and to give up control. Submission is not about kinky
sex and whips and chains—though those
things can and do play a part in our lifestyle, it is much deeper than just
that, and comes from the heart. Submission is a choice, and a wonderful gift to
the Dominant—it should never be
entered into lightly, even in a casual situation at a party or gathering.

To celebrate his decision to take the next step with his boyfriend Ian,
Toshi Baylor plans a romantic evening at their favorite steak house. Toshi
starts the special weekend with a bang by surprising Ian at home with lunch.
There’s a bang all right, but it’s between Ian and another guy.

Jase Taylor’s auto repair shop and the BDSM club, Wrapped Up, keep him busy
while he waits for Mr. Right, instead of Mr. Right Now. He’s a Dom, but playing
with the club’s submissives isn’t providing the usual stress release. After a
day from hell, he deserves a good meal at his favorite steak house.

Toshi and Jase find a mix-up with their reservations: a table for Baylor, not
Taylor. When Toshi invites Jase to dine with him, they discover a mutual
affection for leather and a shared belief that trust must be earned.

Before they can explore their common interests, Toshi suffers a series of
attacks by vandals. Jase’s protective instincts kick in, but both wonder if it
can lead to anything permanent.

Excerpt:

Jase
placed his hand on Toshi’s arm, halting the smaller man. “Okay, as I was
saying… Why not meet me sometime at the gym? You wouldn’t have to work out
alone then, and neither would I.”

Toshi
stopped hunting his car keys and looked up at Jase. “Really? I’d like that.”

Jase
held his helmet under his arm. He really didn’t want Toshi to leave without
knowing when he’d see him again or having some way to contact him. That alone
surprised him, but he didn’t question the impulse, just went with it.

Toshi
fiddled with his keys. “I, ah, yeah. That sounds good. Three it is. Just go
easy on me, man. It’s been two weeks, at least, since I worked out.”

Jase
zipped his leather jacket, debating how to answer, then threw caution to the
wind. Better to see how Toshi would react now than later. “Going easy isn’t in
my vocabulary. That’s not who I am. I push—that’s what I do. But I won’t push
you any harder than what you… need.”

There
was no mistaking the look of lust that flashed in Toshi’s eyes, and Jase felt
himself respond. “Give me your phone.” After Jase programmed his number, he
handed the cell back to Toshi. “Dress in street clothes and bring whatever you
work out in. After we’re done, we can shower there, then grab something to eat
or… whatever. And Toshi, I enjoyed tonight. Very much. Call me if you can’t
make it.”

Jase
put on his helmet and his leather gloves. He noticed the way Toshi eyed the
leather he wore—that was promising—before he flipped the visor down. He looked
at Toshi—both of them standing there, staring at each other. He made a point of
glancing down at the front of Toshi’s pants, to where a nice bulge showed,
before walking away.

Just as
he started the bike, he saw Toshi hurry to his car. Jase pulled out and passed
in front of Toshi’s car. He stopped, one foot on the road to balance himself.
Toshi was just sitting there,
doing nothing. Jase’s grin was hidden behind the visor. It looked like he had
Toshi’s attention. He lifted his hand, making the motion of starting a vehicle.
When Toshi’s car started, he nodded and drove off, very satisfied with what
he’d seen so far.

He
glanced in his rearview mirror as headlights turned in the opposite direction.
He’d bet Toshi was a submissive but had no real training. That need was there,
though. He’d seen glimpses of it during dinner and at dessert. It had been a
while since he'd played with anyone who wasn’t in the lifestyle, but Toshi
showed promise. If he wasn’t very much mistaken, they shared a common interest…
leather.

Author bio:

M.A. Church lives in the southern
United States and spent many years in the elementary education sector. She is
married to her high school sweetheart and they have two children. Her hobbies
are gardening, walking, attending flea markets, watching professional football,
racing, and spending time with her family on the lake.

But her most beloved hobby is
reading. From an early age, she can remember hunting for books at the library.
Later nonhuman and science fiction genres captured her attention and drew her
into the worlds the authors had created. But always at the back of her mind was
the thought that one day, when the kids were older and she had more time, she
would write a book.

By sheer chance she stumbled across
a gay male romance story on the web and was hooked. A new world opened up and
she fell in love. Thus the journey started. When not writing or researching,
she enjoys reading the latest erotic and mainstream romance novels.

Friday, December 20, 2013

I liked Let It Snow. The character dynamics was interesting. I always enjoy a good bear/twink story. I liked Frankie's spunky nature. He was quirky enough to stand out, and I liked his spunky attitude when he was upset by Marcus' behavior.

Marcus' actions were harder for me to accept. He didn't feel quite 'real' to me. His friends, Arthur and Paul, felt like an irritation to me instead of an interesting sub-plot element. The lack of privacy was really creepy.

The whole trip to the beauty salon was very sweet. I've worked in places like that and it felt real. Contrasting the small town acceptance with the scene in the rundown tenements was a good move to highlight the fears Frankie had from his history living in one.

Overall, I liked the story, especially the sweet ending. I just wish it had stood out more; I finished this feeling like I'd read the story before because it was a very common plot type.

Thursday, December 19, 2013

Please welcome Jon Keys to my blog. He's here to talk about his latest release: Heart of the Pines!

Howdy! Thanks so much for having me today. I’m
excited about my first published story and I’ve had fun sharing with everyone. Heart of the Pines is part of
Dreamspinner’s 2013 Advent Calendar and below you’ll find out all the good
stuff about the story.

I don’t know about everyone else, but my family has
a huge tradition of making all kinds of sugar filled treats for the holidays.
When we went to my grandparent’s house for the season, they would cover the
kitchen table with all kinds of homemade cookies and candies that everyone
snacked from all day. There were things that I never developed a taste for,
like date candy, and others that I still love and the season isn’t complete
without them. Divinity would fall in that category.

For those of you who have not had the delight of
tasting this delicious confection, your life just isn’t complete. Think of the
whipped center of your favorite candy bar, and that would be similar. Just
yummy, gooey, lusciousness. You pop it in your mouth and it starts to melt,
your mouth is filled with vanilla, nuts and the winter season.

It’s also one kind of candy that I’m not that good
at making. Recent years have been better (hint, try the recipe from Joy of
Cooking, but no raisins…ick). But for me, it just makes the season.

Heart
of the Pines is about two mature men who are trying
to get through the season without their familiar ties and traditions from
previous years.

~ Jon ~

Blurb

Christmas is the worst time of the year to find
yourself alone. Chris Moss, owner of a tree farm, knows this down to his bones
as he makes his way through his first holiday season after losing his wife to
cancer. When Wade Hart, an annual customer at the farm, visits, they find
common ground: Wade lost his own longtime lover to a parting of ways and is
lonely too. The constant, gentle companionship provides fertile soil for an
attraction neither expects, but nurturing a new relationship is a tough proposition.
With the encouragement of family and friends, Chris and Wade may yet find that
a second love later in life can be just as fulfilling as the first.

Excerpt
from Heart
of the Pines.

Jets
of steamy breath shot from Wade’s nostrils as he struggled to drag the enormous
Christmas tree across the loose Michigan snow. The bells on Chris’s Santa hat
jingled merrily as he hurried out to help his friend pull the tree up the final
hillock to the barn.

“Here,
let me give you a hand.” Stepping along the slowing tree, Chris wrapped a
glove-covered hand around a branch and lent his strength to the effort.

Wade
nodded and smiled. “Thanks, it’s a little much by myself.”

“No
problem, happy to help. Looks like you got a beaut,” said Chris.

Wade
pulled off his knit hat and wiped the perspiration from his head. “It’s a good
one. I think I’ve covered your whole farm, several times, to find the perfect
tree.”

They
pulled the tree into the work area and hoisted it onto the sawbuck. “Want me to
trim it up for you?”

“Sure.
One less thing I’ll have to do.” Wade laid the handsaw he’d used on the table
behind them, then tugged his thick cap on while Chris made a few quick cuts
with the chainsaw to ready the tree for his stand. The roar of the saw faded,
and Chris struggled for a few minutes as he tried to push the tree into the
netting. As he began his second attempt, Wade woke from his stupor and grabbed
the other side of the tree.

“Sorry,
I’m a little spacey today,” said Wade.

With
his help, Chris slid the tree into the tube of netting, getting it ready for
Wade’s SUV. “No problem. It’s a huge tree. I hope Jeff will be around to help
you unload.”

Wade
folded his arms over his chest, a pained look on his face. “Jeff moved out.
Last week. I thought makin’ our annual trip to your farm for a tree would keep
me from thinkin’ about it.” Wade turned his head and let out a shuddering sigh.
“I guess it’s not ‘our’ trip anymore.”

Chris
gave Wade’s shoulder a squeeze. “Sorry to hear that. You guys always seemed
happy together. Jeff was always cutting up and flirting with Mary.” I haven’t forgotten you attended her
funeral.

“It
happens. I guess we lasted longer than a lot of couples. Ten years isn’t bad.”
Wade’s fingers ran over one of the fir boughs edging the barn windows. “It was
good in the beginning, like newlyweds. Jeff loved our loft in Chicago. But ever
since we moved to Traverse City, the relationship had slowly gone downhill. Our
business downtown was an attempt to find something to keep Jeff happy.”

The
pain in Wade’s eyes sparked a wave of bitter nostalgia for Chris. He missed
Mary so desperately some days. She always was the caretaker of the family, even
when they got the diagnosis of stage-four cancer; she still took care of
everyone else until it was impossible for her to keep doing it. He turned to
the barn behind them, pulled off the Santa hat, and held it tight in his hands
as the frigid air gusted through his short white hair.

The
farm was always beautiful this time of year, the ground covered with
crystalline flakes in a white carpet that extended to the steps of the house,
which he kept carefully swept. He hadn’t changed anything since Mary died. It
had been more difficult in the summer when the beds that hugged the foundation
of their house were ablaze with flowers Mary had planted and nursed through the
years. The winter covering had been a blessed relief, but his heart still ached
at the lack of holiday decorations. Mary had loved the season, and given half a
chance, she covered everything within striking distance with lights. Without
her, the trimmings just hadn’t mattered.

He
shook himself and focused on finishing with Wade’s tree. He tied the bottom of
the netting and turned to Wade. “There you go. All bundled and ready to put in
that great foyer you have.”

“Not
so grand this year. It’s kind of tough to get into the spirit of the season.”

Chris
gave Wade a sympathetic smile. “It could be worse….”

Realization
hit Wade. “Oh my God! I can’t believe I’ve been such an ass. This is your first
Christmas alone. I’m so sorry, Chris. I feel awful.”

“It’s
not your fault. It’s been almost a year since her funeral. It’s ancient history
to most people.” Although it seems like
yesterday to me. I can still feel her soft hand in mine as we picnicked on one
of Lake Michigan’s sugar sand beaches on our first date, playing in the chilly
crystal clear water. Even then, she’d taken care of everything and had the
perfect lunch basket packed.

“Yeah,
but Mary always said Christmas was her favorite time of the year.”

“It
was, and I haven’t felt like doing much. It’s a lot more work to take care of
the farm alone too. But the income for the whole year happens in the next month
or so. Doesn’t leave me with many choices.” Chris smiled at Wade. “Bad thing
about a Christmas tree farm, firs just aren’t that tasty.”

Wade
gave a nod, and then his eyes lit up. “Hey, what if I do it? I’ve helped Mary
put up the decorations before. It’ll keep me busy, and Santa’s Tree Farm needs
to look more festive than either of us feels.”

Chris
couldn’t help but smile at the sudden enthusiasm. “If you’d like, that would be
great. I just can’t face the stuff. Too many memories.”

“Southern
boy to the rescue! I got this covered.” Wade clapped his hand on Chris’s bicep
and squeezed it. Chris found a comfort from the contact that surprised him.
Mary’s touch had always had that unique ability to soothe him. Some nights its
absence had left him curled around her pillow with tears streaming down his
face.

Chris
fished a ring of keys from his pocket, flipped through them, and held one out
for Wade. “This unlocks the storage padlock. Anything you want to do would be
great. I have a few customers wandering around looking for trees. I better go
check on them.”

Chris
raced through the light snowfall while Wade started for the storage building.

Jon Keys’ earliest memories revolve around books;
with the first ones he can recall reading himself being “The Warlord of Mars”
and anything with Tarzan. (The local library wasn’t particularly up to date.)
But as puberty set in he started sneaking his mother’s romance magazines and
added the world of romance and erotica to his mix of science fiction, fantasy,
and comic books.

A voracious reader for almost half a century, Jon
has only recently begun creating his own flights of fiction for the
entertainment of others. Born in the Southwest and now living in the Midwest,
Jon has worked as a ranch hand, teacher, computer tech, roughneck, designer,
retail clerk, welder, artist, and, yes, pool boy; with interests ranging from
kayaking and hunting to painting and cooking, he draws from a wide range of
life experiences to create written works that draw the reader in and wrap them
in a good story.

Wednesday, December 18, 2013

Well here we are again! It's Wednesday and there's another flash installment to read in Birch and Sayer's story. I think you'll like this week's reveal!! The flash inspiration I used was: "A fire smoldered in his eyes."

Take Flight Part 23

“Stop them!” Sayer gasped when a hand grabbed his ankle,
yanking him down. “There’s more than one!”

None of the men answered him.

Sayer strained his wings, flapping hard, but couldn’t break
free of the iron grip on his ankle.

Rittenhauser heaved them downward. Sayer held Birch closer
and protected his head as they tumbled to the floor. He landed on his back with
a thud. Birch cried out when Sayer couldn’t prevent his legs from being jarred.

“Don’t move, or I’ll shoot!”

The man who’d captured Birch stood over them, his feet
spread wide. He pointed his shotgun at Sayer’s face. “I’ll do it, demon.”

He was insane. “I’m not a demon!” Sayer protested. His
instincts screamed for him to use his magic, but he was too weak still.

“What do think I am? An idiot? Your filthy tricks won’t fool
me.” The remaining light flickered. Sayer strained his eyes, careful not to
move his head. The sprites were dancing near the bulbs. He had to stall. The
other fae would contain the humans. Birch’s boss was something… different.

“Why harm Birch? I know you said you saw me, when we were
kids.”

“He drew you to our town. I’ve seen it happen. He draws you
demons like a moth to a flame. He is no innocent! My father warned me of your
kind so I could be a soldier in the war against evil.” Spit flew from his lips
as Rittenhauser raged. A fire smoldered in his eyes. “I am Grigori! I can sense
your filth. I know when your evil comes creeping out of the shadows to taint
mortal men. But not here! Not in my town!”

The priest gasped and began mumbling.

Sayer had never heard of any being called a Grigori, but
Birch’s boss was definitely not a mortal. It explained why he could see the
fae, and why the cross had such an effect on the balance of power in the fae
realm.

There might still be hope to hide the fae from the human
realm for a while longer, at least until they could recover from the damage
this being did to them.

A loud boom echoed off the high stone ceiling. “Mitch, stop!”
A huge man, easily seven and a half feet tall, ducked through the open doors.
How had he gotten by Croll? “My son, you are mistaken about these folk.”

Rittenhauser shook his head violently. “No, Father. I saw
them; I feel it!” He gestured wildly with the fun. “Tell me you can’t feel that
taint all around us. You taught me how to sense demons and their effect on men.
This is my purpose, my calling. I will eradicate the evil on behalf of the
Lord. They deserve to die.”

The barrel of the gun he was staring down shook. Sayer
desperately hoped the incensed man wouldn’t pull the trigger.

“There are many folk on this Earth beyond mortal men and demon-kind.
I only told you after you came across a demon as a child to help you
understand. I never intended for you to become a Scourge.”

“They wouldn’t have me! Said I was delusional. But I saw him
turn into smoke. He flew! He has wings!”

Birch trembled in his arms. Sayer could smell his blood and
feel his pain. He had to get away from the church and get his beloved to
Haverlseen. “I am Lord of the Fae. We are magical beings, but we are not
demons. We are not evil.”

“No! Your kind all lie. You’re trying to trick me into letting
you go, but I won’t.”

“Mitch, my son”—the man’s voice was closer, almost directly
behind Sayer—“he speaks the truth. There are many realms on Earth and many
creatures who have no affiliation with demon kind. I am sorry that I left your
education so lacking. I wanted to keep you from this war.”

The tip of the man’s shotgun began to lower. “B-but… you
said… You said to be vigilant against evil around me.”

The man reached over them with one long arm. He gently
closed his hand over the barrel, plucking it from Rittenhauser’s limp hands. The
older man no longer looked at Birch and Sayer; he stared at his father. He
shook his head.

Sayer took the first deep breath he’d allowed himself since
he found out Birch had been captured. The insane man who’d grabbed him looked
like a lost child. All his rage seemed to have disappeared with the arrival of
his father.

“What are you?” Sayer asked.

“I am a Grigori.”

There was that word again.

“I don’t know what that is, but you clearly know what I am.”

“My kind are rare. We were angels once, but now we live
among humans and cannot ascend to the heavens.” The giant man sighed. “I am
very sorry my son hurt your people. I know it means little to redress the
balance, but he did not know he was doing wrong.”

“He poisoned my people and shot my beloved. An apology is
not enough.”

Sayer curled Birch into his arms more securely and carefully
rose to his feet. “I don’t have time to deal with this. I must see to my
beloved. I will release his men, but not their weapons.”

“When you have settled things, you can find me through the
father over there. He can contact me with a time and place. I’m sure you have
questions for me.”

Sayer nodded sharply.

He rose into the air. “Let’s go.”

The fae who had followed Sayer into the church to rescue
Birch followed him out the open doors.

Friday, December 13, 2013

I vacillated between 2 and 3 stars, though I waited a few weeks to review or it would have been 1. 2 for the content and 3 for the writing, so I went with 3. The writing itself is clean and well done. The characters are distinct and well-fleshed out. I could 'see' what I was reading. I respect authors who have a complicated story they plan to tell, and the skills to bring it to life, even if I cannot endorse the story itself.

But the content was overdone. The 'edge of consent' doesn't even begin to describe the dynamic between Brandon and Jonathan. Consent was never the issue. Control was. This is not bdsm in a Dom/sub capacity the way I expected. This was a Master/slave dynamic where the Master was a totally manipulative, conniving bastard. I hated Jonathan, AND his friend at the end of the book. I hated Brandon's need for the submission and pain forcing him to go back. I wanted to reach into the book and tell him to stay the hell away from Jonathan. The 'they wanted the best' line Jonathan had about his previous subs was so far outside what happened that the line really stuck with me and rubbed me raw.

The money and the way Jonathan used it, and their differing relationship, to his advantage was despicable. It made Brandon into a whore. That bugged me. The other part that really struck me was when they were speaking to each other 'to discuss what was happening' over breakfast. I expected that to be the turning point where things begin to go better but that's where it all really broke. Brandon was told to speak freely and then was struck AFTER that for things he said during that time. He never had a chance. He was never truly given an opportunity to learn and be open because it was all about what he did wrong and not what he did right.

Worst of all of it was the end because Jonathan feels no remorse. His epiphany of wrongdoing was so far from the catastrophic realization of harm that it only underscored his heinous behavior. The actions on the character's parts bothered me to the point that, while I have the second book, I can't read it. I'm told that it redeems the first but my thought is why? Why should it have to redeem the first book? The extremes the authors went to set up the faulty power dynamic should have been redeemed to the same level, but it wasn't. The good didn't begin to equal the bad. I was left with a bad taste in my mouth and an urge to throttle the characters. Usually a strong emotional response is a good thing, but when it incites nausea over the thought of reading Jonathan and Brandon's continuing story... well, that's just not what anyone should want.

This is a decide for yourself book, for sure. I cannot recommend Power Play: Resistance, but if extreme sadism is your thing, have at it.

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

Cannd brought up several questions last week, and I hope to answer some of them here. This week's flash update was inspired by the prompt: Don't forget to check out the central site the Briefers have set up due to the weekly effort by Andrew Q. Gordon!

Take Flight Part 22

Sayer leaned on the
passenger window. Croll parked around the corner from the church near Birch’s
house. They stared at the gray stone building crouching ominously in the center
of the block blocking out the fading sunlight. It had wide, square walls and a tall,
pointy spire stabbing at the sky. “Why here?”

“Ange said the guy talked
about a Father. That means a priest in the human world. They called us demons;
where else would they take him?”

“I’m surprised you’re not
rushing in to find your beloved.” Croll tapped his fingers on the steering
wheel.

“The last time I rushed I
became a Darkling. My actions put Birch in this place with these maniacs. We
need to know more before we can save him.” Sayer could feel the fae around
them, blending in with the human realm, surrounding the church. “If that man
wants demons, we’ll give him demons.”

Fae, great and small, had
gathered to help Sayer save Birch. He’d risked his life to protect the fae
realm, and now that they knew the cause of all the damage they’d put a stop to
the religious fanatic. Sayer could feel his subject around him. His magic was
weak but growing stronger.

A small fae with rough,
pebbled grayish skin knocked on Sayer’s window. He rolled it down. “What did
you find?”

“He’s in there, my lord.
But….” The dwarf clutched at his jacket, hesitating.

The dwarf bowed his head. “We’ll
help you. We’ve opened a tunnel inside the sanctuary. You can enter there.”

Croll turned off the car.
They climbed out. “Sprites.” Croll waved at the streetlights. Small groups of
the glowing air sprites flew toward bulbs, swarming them until the glass popped
in a shower of sparks and the lights went out. Darkness shrouded the street and
the fae that materialized from the rocks, trees, and stone.

“You organize out here.
Cover our retreat,” Sayer told his second-in-command. He pointed at several fae
in the crowd. “You, you, and you. Come with us.”

The dwarf led the way into the
tunnel they’d made through the stone walls. Sayer strode behind him, anxious to
see his beloved. The tunnel climbed vertically through the walls. They climbed
the irregular stones like a ladder up to a balcony. The tunnel exited in the
shadowy recess.

“He’s close,” Sayer
whispered. They crept out to the railing and peered over.

“You shot a man. What were
you thinking?” The priest was hovering over Birch’s body. He was on the floor
in front of the altar.

“He’s not a man! He’s
associated with those demons you refused to believe in. I told you, I told you!”
the other man screamed. He waved a gun around.

“You’re delusional.” The priest
pressed the altar cloth tight around Birch’s thigh but it was stained red with
blood that wasn’t stopping.

“I have proof. They saw it,
the demon that was with him. It melted into a tree.” Several men were ranged
around the sanctuary.

The priest shook his head. “We
have to call an ambulance.”

“No. No ambulance and no
cops.”

“He’ll die!”

“If he dies, he deserves it
for consorting for with that filth. You can’t make an omelet without breaking
eggs.”

Sayer clenched his hands
into fists. Birch wasn’t moving. There was blood all over his shoulder and his
leg was bleeding profusely no matter what the priest tried. He didn’t have much
more time.

“We need their guns,” Sayer
whispered to the drow he’d brought with him. The night-stealer grinned, his
round face full of wicked glee.

He bounced off into the
shadows.

Two small sprites had
followed them. Sayer pointed to the lights over the center aisle. “Gently take
some of those out.” They flew up to the ceiling and began stroking the lights.
They flickered. “When I give you the signal, encase the human’s feet in the
floor,” Sayer told the dwarf. “Skim a fine layer of rock into dust while we
wait.”

Birch’s boss didn’t seem to
notice. He continued ranting at the priest, exposing years of fixation on the
fae as demonic beings sent by Satan to pollute his town. He’d been watching
Birch since he and Sayer were children. Sayer blanched. One of his trips to
leave a gift on Birch’s pillow had set this guy off?

Crouched, ready to spring,
Sayer held on to his control by his fingertips. The dwarf at his side watched
him for the signal.

The tall sylph he’d picked
to come with them stood silently, her eyes huge, her hands spread. She was
powerful but wild, rarely interacting with other fae. “You’ll create a cover.
Use the stone dust.”

Shadows fell across the
church as two of the three main lights went out, one after the other. “Now!” Sayer
sent a trickle of power to the doors, shoving them open. He panted at the
effort.

The dwarf began to mutter
and the sylph waved her hands in flowing motions through the air, beginning to
swirl the stone dust all through the church as if huge gusts of wind flowed in
through the outer doors. Men shouted and a gun went off.

“The demons are here!”

Sayer jumped onto the
balcony railing. His wings burst from his back and he drifted down to the main
floor. A personal aura kept the fine stone grit from blinding him as he flew
straight to Birch’s side. The priest was mired in stone, still kneeling beside
his beloved.

“Thank you for trying to
help him,” Sayer said. He gathered Birch’s body into his arms. Sayer flapped his
wings to get back to the balcony and their escape route.

TBC

Don't forget to check out the other great updates by the other Briefers! There are so many active authors taking part each week. And if you're interested in joining the group, let one of us know! We can steer you in the right direction.